Wish
by stringsofwords09
Summary: A little Mabastian fic centered around the Holidays... (requested by a lovely person on tumblr...done on a whim a few hours later...)


"Shh! They'll catch us! Stop moving so much."

A six year old Francis yanked his friend Mary's dress, and pulled her back into their hiding spot. They huddled underneath the giant tree, careful not to get scratched up. It was the day before Christmas, and they wanted to catch a glimpse of the holiday preparations in the Ball room. No one could see them, but they could watch everyone else. And as a plus – they could explore the tree. It was Mary's favorite part of the holiday. They touched all the ornaments, pointing out their favorite ones. "I like this one," Francis said, pointing to a small gold crown. "I'll wear one of these for real some day. So will you, since you're already a queen."

Mary giggled, and fashioned a little crown out of branches for Francis. He shook his head when she offered it to him. "Princes wear golden crowns," he explained, tapping the ornament. She shrugged and perched it atop her head. "Now I'm a wood nymph queen!" she said triumphantly. Francis rolled his eyes. "You're just a loudmouthed elf. Keep quiet, or someone will hear you."

The servants were too busy to notice, however, and bustled back and forth in the halls, carrying boxes of decorations, platters of food, and chairs. The Court Christmas party was the biggest celebration of the year. One young servant spent a good half hour decorating the tree, with the two children squatting right at his boots. They giggled furiously, and Francis had to cover Mary's mouth twice, else she'd give them away.

Mary took off her fake crown. Her hair was now full of pine needles. She leaned forward, to shake it out, and caught a glimpse of Francis's older brother, Bash, among a group of other young men. He walking by lazily, yet arrogantly with his shoulders lax, as was his usual stride, dragging a lion head sword behind him. She tried to duck her head back before she was noticed, but the bastard spotted her. She froze; they'd be caught for sure! But Bash just winked at her, and charged forward, following the other boys outside to play in the snow.

Suddenly, Mary wished she was outside, too. "Want to have a snowball fight?" she asked Francis eagerly. The prince nodded, and so they abandoned their secret hiding spot. They played for hours. The older children ignored them, much to Mary's chagrin. Why wouldn't Sebastian ever speak to her?

She was soaked to the bone when they finally went inside. "What happened to you, little dove?" Mary spun to find Bash grinning at her. He had finally joined their snowball fight for a few minutes, but was adept at dodging her every attack. "I'm not a bird," she told him, annoyed. Bash just winked at her again, and took off. "You'll dry off if you fly around. Just flap your arms!" he hollered back at her. Mary just watched him run off, before finding a servant to help her dry.

"What should we _wear?_" gushed Greer, sorting through a pile of clothing. She held up a beige and blue frock and frowned. "Too boring?"

"Definitely go for something more festive," suggested Mary.

Lola held up two gowns, both bejeweled, one silver and one black. "The silver," said Mary, and Kenna agreed. "Black is dreary," she said. "This is no party to hide in the shadows."

"Oh girls, forget our dresses already. Let's go to the market!" Aylee begged them, "We can pick our outfits all day, but the shops will close soon." They complied, after Greer finally relented. "Alright, but you'll help me with my hair when we return." She stowed the clothes away, and followed the others.

The girls walked through the market, greeting other patrons, sampling holiday treats, and picking up jewels and baubles. Mary wasn't as keen to look for gifts as her friends. She'd already purchased gifts for all of them, as well as Francis. She walked around slowly, inhaling the fresh scents. She paused at another table, a glint of gold catching her eyes.

"A special ornament for the Queen?"

She looked up at the old woman at the table. "What is this?"

"Court tradition, m'lady, every guest of King Henry can hang a personal ornament on the tree at court." The shopkeeper held up a tray of ornate jewels, ranging from simple to highly wrought figures. She traced her hand over one piece from the tray. "How festive. And how much…?" she began to ask, but the woman shook her head. "A Queen does not pay," she insisted and pushed the trinket into Mary's hands.

Mary smiled, and picked up a second item, it had caught her eye as she passed. It triggered a small memory. "If you'd wrap these both?" she asked. The woman nodded, and as she turned her back, Mary slipped a few gold coins on the table.

The hall was decorated as she once remembered it. Wreaths on every wall, atop golden tapestries, enormous pumpkins with candles, and stacks of cinnamon bundles. Even the chandeliers were decorated, and Mary wondered which poor soul would have to unadorn them in the morning. The waiters were dressed in celebratory clothing, shimmering as they walked around the room. Mary downed her goblet, enjoying a pumpkin spiced wine. This was going to be a party to remember.

Her handmaiden giggled as they drank, and the group of girls mingled in with the rest of the crowd. There were hundreds of guests, clad in their finest clothing. The King was exceptionally dressed, in a brilliant golden jacket. Henry sat lopsided on his throne, with two maids curled up under each arm. Kenna and Diane didn't seem to mind. The holiday spirit had captured everyone, apparently. Catherine and Diane were both sights to behold. They wore brilliant golden and white dresses. The wine was flowing, and everyone was drinking. Even queen Catherine had a red flush to her cheeks.

The smell of cinnamon and pine lingered in the air. Mary marveled at the tree, so lavishly wrought in charms and tinsel. A dusting of snow lingered near the entranceways. It was snowing lightly, to many of the French's displeasure, but Mary was secretly pleased. Snow was a necessity on Christmas.

The chefs had moved from the kitchens, into the halls. They roasted the meat over an open fire, and guests came by to watch. It was the royal French court, yet they ate with their hands, and didn't seem to mind getting dirty. A giant boar was the main event, and it sat at the center of a giant fire-pit. It was not the only attraction, as an enormous yule log smoked in its own pit. Guests warmed their hands against its embers, whispering holiday greetings and praising one another.

Waiters lurked at every corner, with platters of duck, truffles, eggs, and peacock. Mary had to take a step back to avoid being lit aflame, as jugglers tossed blazing pumpkins in the air. Every type of entertainment was abound, poets, bards, carolers. The musicians, dressed in masquerade costumes played their music loudly and lively. Mary grabbed Prince Charles to the center of the room, and soon dancing was underway.

She danced with everyone; her friends, her uncle, even Simon, the English ambassador. Dancing with King Henry was more enjoyable than she had expected, he flew her around the room in dips and spins. Francis, however, was a bit more contained. He only went one round before asking to sit. Mary suspected Olivia's glances had something to do with his hesitance.

"Oh, come on, let's continue, Francis, the night is still young!"

He sighed, "Trying to out-drink my father was clearly a mistake. Here, let Bash take over."

Francis placed her hands in his brother's, and soon Mary found herself looking into Sebastian's trademark smirk. "Queen Mary," he said nodding his head in respect. "I see you've tired out the entire French court." He wore a brown and gold jacket to the hip. Mary didn't think he had ever looked more handsome. She smiled at him. "I'm lucky you were waiting here in the wings. Merry Christmas, Bash."

"Ah, there is that lovely spirited smile. You look like a dream tonight." He looked down to take in her blue and gold dress, long sleeved, yet cut dangerously low, and elegantly draped at the hip. He placed his hand at the curve of her back and took her hand in his palm. She had the softest of hands.

Dancing was a bit out of a reverie; Bash moved rather elegantly for someone with an unruly look about them. She liked that he could easily adapt from roguish bastard to a polite gentleman. "You are probably the best dancer here," she complimented him. "Dancing is a two-person job," he replied. "If the two parties are mutually invested, well, anyone would find the art irresistible."

They so they danced until the music stopped, and Henry clapped his hands. "It's time for gifts!" he called out, and the people cheered. Bash nodded at her, and made his way over to his mother. Mary watched them next to the King. They knew how to be in and out of sight when duty called.

Mary got bored of the extravagant gifting event. Most royals waited to New Year's Day, but here they made it into a larger show. To avoid the outlandishness, she had delivered her gift to the King before the party: a newly minted sword with a golden handle and case, encrusted with jewels and the French seal. She had left her handmaidens their gifts – jewelry, of course – on their respective beds. And Francis, well he had evaded her most of the day, so a servant was made to hand the young Prince an engraved golden goblet.

She fingered the small trinkets in her pockets. _If only…_

Mary tore away from the festivities, and stood off to the side to watch the party. She looked up to admire the tree again, now up close. It looked different at night, just as pretty but more audacious. Solid gold and silver trinkets twinkled as the fire pit roared. There were bundles on cinnamon, tied with red bows. She took out a small red jewel she purchased from the market and fastened it to a branch. She took a step back, craning her neck; a small angel stood on the very top, a small doll in a white dress and feather wings looked down at her.

"Looks like you," said a familiar voice.

She turned, to face a pair of jade eyes. "Bash," she said, with a shy smile. "How did you spot me?"

"I seem to recall you have a tendency for hiding in this tree," he told her. "Why are you hiding now? Is a drunk Francis putting you off? Personally I like him better this way."

She looked back at the guests, spotting Francis redfaced with his arm around Olivia. Of course. Yet, it didn't bother her anymore. "I still remember Christmas here as a child," she told Bash. "This tree was always my favorite part."

Bash nodded, "I remember. We do replace the tree you know, but yes. The servants go all out to decorate it. It's a little too excessive for my tastes. See, now, these are my favorite part of the holiday." He pointed up at a bundle of berries, intertwined into a wreath of hazel and evergreen. He plucked one off and popped it into his mouth. "Mmmm…" he said raising his eyebrows at her in impish fashion.

She looked up, spotting the entire wreath. "That's a kissing bough," she told him, frowning. "You embrace someone when you pull a fruit off of it. How many girls have you snuck under here?"

"You're right. That _is_ the tradition. You're the first girl, however. And we can't just ignore it, now can we?" He smiled at her, his eyes dancing with mischief. And then, he grabbed her too him, and kissed her, full on the mouth. His lips, firm yet gentle, melded to hers. She didn't back away, and kissed him back. Her hand went to his jaw, and she was soon wrapped tightly in his arms. This was more than a cheerful holiday embrace.

"Bash…"

She pulled away, flushed, delighted, and confused. "Why did you ignore me," she asked timidly "When we…when we were children? You were always having an adventure, as a big boy with your sword and your friends... But when I tried to tag along…"

"My mother told me to stay away from Francis and his betrothed," he told her with a shrug. He pulled lightly at her hair. "She thought a wild girl like yourself would get me in too much trouble. The Queen was not fond of me. Well, I suppose she still isn't. We're not rubbing elbows now either. But all the same, if I'd have gotten you a grass stain on your dress, or a scab on your knees, my mother was afraid the King wouldn't be too pleased. The alliance of Scotland a mere six year old, screwed up by his bastard."

He shook his head. "But we would have had fun. Francis was always the boring brother." She nodded at him, rolling her eyes and he laughed. "Getting him to play was like pulling teeth!"

"Let me make it up to you." He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small item. "Here, I got you something. You can hang it on the tree." Mary looked down into his palm, at a small silver dove. "Oh, you! You were wrong, you know!" she chided him. "Flapping around like a fool did not dry me off. You never had much sense as a boy."

But, she grinned. "We had the same thought." She reached into her pocket, and handed him her second ornament. Bash took it into his hands, and had to chuckle. It was a small golden lion.

"You have a keen eye, my Queen," he said with an appreciate smile. "Come," he said, grabbing her hand and leading the way outside. "Let's have an adventure now."


End file.
